


☆ Hot Pockets ☆ Tom Holland/Reader ☆

by Ava_Holland



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), tom holland - Fandom
Genre: Actor Tom Holland, F/M, Hot Pockets, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Kinda Weird, Tom Holland needs sleep, Why Did I Write This?, y/n needs food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:28:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23686168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ava_Holland/pseuds/Ava_Holland
Summary: ☆ With such a rigorous filming schedule, it's rare that Tom can catch a full night of zzz's. When his girlfriend, (Y/n) keeps waking up to grab snacks, he just about loses it. But, will the midnight feasts ever end? ☆
Relationships: Tom Holland (Actor)/Peter Parker/Reader, Tom Holland (Actor)/Reader, Tom Holland (Actor)/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	☆ Hot Pockets ☆ Tom Holland/Reader ☆

**Author's Note:**

> ☆ hey, first story ever posted on AO3, so that's exciting! i hope you enjoy this as much as i had fun with writing it (i usually write stuff in a notebook and then transfer it online). if there are any mistakes please point them out, i'm always up for criticism ;) i realize that this isn't in the standard POV for xReader fics, but this is the POV i'm most comfortable writing in. Cheers lovelies, and enjoy! ☆
> 
> ☆ dedicated to my best friend. my ride or die. till the end of the line boo ☆

“(Y/n)... what the hell are you doing?” A groggy voice comes from behind me. I turn around and see Tom staring sleepily at me, wiping his eyes. He sits down at the kitchen table and places his head in his hands.

“I’m making hot pockets! Want some?” I glance back at the hot pocket, awaiting its glorious taste. He sighs and I turn back and look at him. Eyes wandering his body lazily I notice he’s wearing the same sweatpants and tee-shirt that he’s worn for the past 2 days. Granted, the shirt hugs his biceps _just right_ and his sweatpants dip low enough to see the waistband of his Calvins. _God, I love him._ He looks at the hot pocket in the toaster and back at me in confusion

“No,” His voice is straining with irritation, “It’s two in the fucking morning. Go. Back. To. Sleep.”

“I was hungry,” I whine, throwing my hands up in surrender. "Is a midnight snack so bad? Well, a 2 am snack..."

“This is the fourth time this week, love” He has deep dark circles ringing his under eyes, filming with such rigorous schedules takes so much out of him. I grab my snack out of the toaster and immediately regret my decision

“Shit fuck dammit!” I whisper curse, “These bad boys get so damn hot,” He smirks at my obvious discomfort, “Shut it, Tom,” I walk over to where he’s sitting, “Just let me finish this one and I won't get up to eat any more hot pockets ever again.”

He looks at me wearily and asks, “Promise?” I give a slight smile and agree to his terms. I take a bite and burn the roof of my mouth, but I don't want to keep him awake any longer. Shoving the rest of it into my mouth, I give a light cough as I swallow the burning hot pocket. Standing, I link my arm with his and drag him out of the chair and down the hall to the bedroom. I hop in bed and he shuffles to his side and crawls in next to me, his arms wrap around my body and he pulls me close. Holding his gaze I smile at his adorable face. He leans in and gives me a gentle little kiss on the nose. I smile and return the favor with a light kiss on his mouth. He pulls away, face wrinkling with disgust.

“God, you taste like hot pockets, (Y/n)” He glares playfully at me and I shove his arm and he sticks his tongue out at me.

“Dick,” I tease, “At least I won't taste like them anymore. My late-night hot pocket excursions are totally done for!” He lets out a small chuckle and I kiss his nose, “Goodnight Tom. His sleepy voice comes back with a soft, 'G’ night, darling. See you in the morning.' Smiling at his now peaceful and half-asleep face I start to drift off.

**_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _**

_Two Weeks Later_

**_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _**

“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK ARE YOU EATING NOW!” An angry voice shouts at me.

“I’m having a damn microwave burrito, Tom. You never said I couldn't eat _those._ ”

“Fine. No more _microwaveable_ food.”

**_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _**

_Four Days Later_

_**_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _** _

Hearing soft footsteps from down the hall, I grab my scrumptious Eggo Waffle out of the toaster and cram it into my mouth before Tom can see.

“What is it this time, (Y/n)?” He says exasperated, “I swear, I’m going to have to ban you from eating anything at this point.” I turn around with the waffle half sticking out of my mouth and he rolls his eyes, “Of-fucking-course you’d find a loophole with what I said.” I quickly swallow the rest of the toaster waffle and make to open my mouth but he cuts me off, “No, no more microwaveable _or_ toaster foods. I mean it…”

**_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _**

_One Month Later_

_**_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _** _

“I swear to God. If I find a microwave pop tart … or a hot pocket in your mouth _I will fucking end you (Y/n)._ ” Finishing my CapriSun with a fast sip I glare at him, receiving an equally fiery glare.

“You said no more food, but you never said I couldn't have juice!”

**Author's Note:**

> ☆ hope you enjoyed my little story!! hopefully, i'll have time to write and update more since we're all stuck inside because of miss rona ☆


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